Christmas Wishes
by Xavier Phoenix
Summary: What seven year old Harry Potter really wants for christmas, is a family. AD HP father son relationship.
1. Of Many Meetings

Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter universe...or the actual universe come to think of it.

Christmas Wishes

The bell rang, indicating the end of the school day. A gaggle of young boys made a beeline for the classroom exit, all eager to get outside and play in the snow, all except one.

Harry Potter, a skinny, raven haired, seven year-old boy trudged slowly from his desk. For him, Christmas was the just the same as any other time of his miserable year, if possible worse. His heart kept bursting with jealously every time he thought of the huge mound of presents awaiting his cousin Dudley underneath their Christmas tree at home. He, of course, would be receiving nothing, other than the usual heap of chores which had become a part of his daily ritual at Privet Drive.

He seated himself on a bench in the playground and watched as many of the boys, including his cousin, engaged themselves in a massive snowball fight. Scowling, he resumed his bitter train of thought, oblivious to the pair of cerulean-blue eyes watching him from behind the school fence.

Albus Dumbledore had been watching Harry for several days now, and was becoming increasingly concerned by the fact that the young boy appeared very reclusive and seemed to have no friends at school. Deciding he needed to investigate further, Albus cautiously made his way towards the bench where Harry was sitting.

Harry looked up at the sound of approaching footsteps and froze. Standing in front of him, was the most peculiar looking man he had ever seen. He had long silver hair and a beard, half moon spectacles, and was wearing a deep purple business suit.

"Hello there young man, would you mind if I sat here?"

The elder man's eccentric appearance seemed to have robbed Harry the ability to speak and he simply shook his head mutely.

"Thank you very much" said Dumbledore beaming. He sat down smartly on the bench, chuckling when he caught sight of Harry's bemused expression. They sat in a companionable silence, Dumbledore humming quietly to himself and Harry turning back to watch the snowball fight.

"They seem to be having fun" Dumbledore commented after a while, nodding to the boys. Harry couldn't seem to find a response to this and so maintained his silence. Dumbledore frowned slightly at this lack of response and decided to probe further.

"It seems strange that a young boy such as yourself is sitting here alone, when all your friends are playing in the snow" he said quietly.

"They're not my friends" Harry replied rather bluntly.

"I'm sorry to hear that" Dumbledore said sadly. He took in Harry's appearance; the boy was far too small for his age, pale and wearing clothes evidently too big for him, all signs of family neglect. And yet in his heart, the headmaster refused to believe it. He was desperate to find some scrap of happiness in Harry life, which would make his decision to leave the boy-who-lived at Private Drive 6 years ago, justifiable.

"I'm sure your family are doing something nice for Christmas though?" he asked, almost tentatively.

Harry did not answer; he was becoming more and more uncomfortable with this conversation. He knew he should leave, before he slipped up about his family life, and yet some part of him wanted confess everything to this old man.

Dumbledore seemed to sense Harry's internal conflict, for he asked no more personal questions and after a while got up from the table and bid Harry farewell.

Harry watched him go, feeling slightly regretful. He had never been able to muster the courage to speak of his ill treatment at Private Drive, part of him felt as though doing so would be betraying the Dursley's trust and no matter how horrible they were, Harry desperately needed a family, even if they did lock him in cupboards.

* * *

The next day Harry stopped at the park on his way home. Looking around, he was surprised to see the old man from the day before, sitting by one of the swings. Dumbledore looked up when he caught sight of Harry. "So we meet again" he said smiling.

"Who are you", almost immediately Harry realised how rude his question must have sounded, however Dumbledore merely chuckled.

"It was rather foolish of me not to introduce myself, my name is Albus Dumbledore, I am a teacher at a school a long way from here".

"Oh...right" was Harry's only response. He slumped down on one of the swings and began to rock back and forth absentmindedly. Dumbledore watched him for a few minutes, Harry looked troubled.

"Is something the matter?" Dumbledore inquired.

Harry looked up at him, for a moment Dumbledore thought he wouldn't answer, but then,

"Well ... it's just my cousin Dudley and I, we don't get along very well and today... we had a fight in the playground" Harry stopped for a moment, then looked up to Dumbledore desperately, "I didn't mean to... I swear... I".

"Calm down, dear boy" Dumbledore said, trying to sooth Harry who had become very agitated.

"Something happened, I don't know what, but Dudley's lips puffed up and turned blue" Harry hesitated, "and now uncle Vernon's going to..." he trailed off.

"What? What is he going to do?" said Dumbledore sharply.

"I...I have to go" said Harry, leaping up from the swing.

"Harry wait!" Dumbledore said standing up, but the young boy had already run out of the park. Dumbledore sat back down, his mind racing. Perhaps he was overreacting, but the old wizard was certain that he had seen a fleeting look of terror on Harry's face at the mention of his uncle. Surely nothing ...bad was happening to Harry? The headmaster decided to wait until he next saw Harry before making any decisions.

* * *

Harry did not appear at school the next morning, an omen which greatly worried Dumbledore. In fact, it was nearly three days later, when the young boy finally made an appearance, carrying out chores in the garden.

Dumbledore surveyed him closely, but to his surprise, Harry appeared perfectly healthy as he tidied the front lawn of the Dursley's home. Throughout the afternoon, the rain beat down mercilessly upon him, and the elder wizard wondered why nobody had come out to check on the boy. A sudden gust of wind blew open the Harry's shirt, and to his utmost horror, Dumbledore caught a glimpse of raw red whip marks across the young boy's chest.

_He had been whipped?_

He stood, frozen with shock, as the horrifying truth about Harry's home life unveiled

itself before him. Punished in the cruellest way for showing signs of magic, for something he couldn't control. Letting his head fall into his hands, Dumbledore realised he had made the gravest error of his life in leaving Harry with the Dursleys.

He had always expected them to treat Harry second to their own pampered son Dudley... _but whipping him?_ This physical abuse was unacceptable and Dumbledore knew Harry could no longer stay there, regardless of the protection in place.

Without wasting another moment, Dumbledore made his way quickly towards the garden where Harry was working and the young boy, looked up enquiringly.

"Harry, I want you to be completely honest with me. Have you been hurt by somebody?"

Harry looked away quickly, his heart hammering inside his chest. How could this man possibly know? Dumbledore's hand gently manoeuvred Harry's face to his own and without even thinking what he was doing, Harry nodded.

"Who" said Dumbledore.

Harry mumbled something incoherent, not meeting Dumbledore's eyes.

"I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that Harry" Dumbledore said quietly.

"My uncle Vernon" replied Harry, a little louder.

"And how long has this been happening" said Dumbledore softly.

"Since Dudley's birthday last year. I made the cake explode by accident when he pushed me over, and now uncle Vernon hurts me every time something strange happens in the house".

Dumbledore straightened up and made his way to the front door, Harry watching nervously from the garden. He rapped on the door and Vernon Dursley opened it, stopping dead in his tracks when his eyes fell on Dumbledore. For several moments he seemed unable to speak, his mouth opening and closing silently.

"You!" he hissed finally, "what the devil are you doing here?"

"I have come to relieve you of the responsibility of looking after Harry; he will no longer be staying here" said Dumbledore

"You've got some nerve old man, dumping people on doorsteps, then taking them back when you see fit," sneered Vernon, "but go ahead, goodness knows he's been nothing more than a nuisance to us all these years".

"I never believed you capable of abusing children in such a way Vernon, evidently I was wrong" said Dumbledore with a hint of steel in his voice.

"I suppose the boy's been feeding you all sorts of lies about how he was treated here-"

"No Vernon," interjected Dumbledore firmly "It is you who is the liar, and one day you will be forced to repent for your wrongdoings, I will make sure of that" and with that, Dumbledore turned and marched from the house with a very stunned Harry in his wake.


	2. At The White Hart

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, never have, never will, blah blah blah...

At The White Hart

The frost covered leaves crunched beneath Harry and Dumbledore as they made their way down privet drive. Harry didn't dare break the silence that enveloped them. Part of him was too shocked to even realise that he had actually walked out of the Dursley's home with not a single possession, or thought as to what he was supposed to do next. The other half was very weary that he was with a man who, despite their newfound acquaintance, was still a complete stranger to him. Dumbledore, however, didn't appear to find the situation awkward at all.

"Would you like a sherbet lemon Harry" he asked, producing a packet of sticky sweets.

"Err...yes please" said Harry, thrown off by this seemingly random offer.

"Harry, I know things moved a bit fast for you back there, and you're probably very confused right now but I ask that you bear with me for the time being. There is much to be sorted out in terms of your future and not much in the way of explanation.

Harry remained silent, thinking hard.

"Mr Dumbledore, no offence, but why are you so concerned about my life. I mean I barely even know you" said Harry quietly. Looking up, he noticed a look of sadness in the elder man's eyes.

"Things have happened Harry, things in your life which I feel partly responsible for. You will understand soon enough why you are of a great importance, not just to me, but to many others too".

"What do you mean-" Harry began, but was cut off by Dumbledore.

"Harry, I know you have a lot of questions, and believe me you will get the answers. But now is neither the time nor the place for that discussion" said Dumbledore firmly. He came to a halt and looked up, Harry followed his gaze. Standing before them, was a small, cosy looking inn. The building was white with a thatched roof and the shining black letters above the door read "The White Hart".

"This should suffice for tonight" said Dumbledore holding the door open for Harry, who gingerly made his way inside. The room was dark and half-empty and a strong mixture of damp earth and tobacco filled Harry's nostrils. The barmaid appeared from a back room as they entered.

"Hello there my dears, how can I help you?"

"I would like a room for the night please" requested Dumbledore.

"Right this way" replied the barmaid, leading them up a bunch of narrow, rickety stairs. They followed her along the landing until they reached the door at the very end. She turned to them,

"Dinner's served downstairs from 7:30 onwards and breakfast tomorrow will begin at 8:00. Any other problems just ask for Dianne" she said, unnecessarily pointing to herself.

Dumbledore thanked her and paid for their room. The two of them entered what turned out to be a surprisingly pleasant bedroom. There were two large beds covered in chintz style quilts, a squashy armchair beside what looked like their very own fireplace, and the large window displayed a beautiful view of the Surrey countryside.

Dumbledore smiled at Harry, who was still standing by the doorway, unsure of what to do with himself.

"Do make yourself comfortable Harry, I daresay you've had a long day" he said kindly.

Though it was only late afternoon, Harry felt as though he were about to drop dead from fatigue. He took off his shoes, crawled under the warm blankets and within minutes was deeply asleep.

* * *

Harry awoke suddenly, a shill shrieking noise emanating from his left. Groggily, he groped for his glasses, wondering what was making such an awful racket. He turned, and saw to his surprise that the shrieking was in fact coming from a small barn owl perched on his bedside table. Before he could make any sense of this odd image, Dumbledore appeared from the bathroom looking thoroughly irritated.

"Will you be quiet!" he said, pulling out a long wooden stick and brandishing it in the owl's direction, which fell silent immediately.

He turned to go back into the bathroom when he froze, noticing Harry's presence for the first time.

"Ah...well Harry it seems like I have a lot of explaining to do".


	3. Explainations

A/N: I was sorely tempted to stop writing this story but my reviewers have inspired me to continue writing it, so thanks to you all!

Explainations 

Harry stared at Dumbledore, hardly daring to believe what had just happened.

"What did you just do?" he said very quietly.

Dumbledore sighed heavily and sat himself down on the end of Harry's bed. He stared very intently at Harry for a moment.

"Do you believe in magic Harry?" he asked softly.

Harry was about to respond with a positive "No", but then he stopped himself. Did he believe in magic? His uncle had made it very clear to him from a young age that the even the very word magic was complete and utter rubbish. But then there had been times, he remembered, when things had happened which were just...unnatural.

"I don't know..." he said slowly.

"And what if I told you, that there were people who are capable of magic?" said Dumbledore, with a very faint smile.

"You mean like magicians" replied Harry, remembering the time when he saw a man pull a rabbit out of a hat for the very first time.

"Not quite," said Dumbledore, "people who can cast spells, like witches and wizards, people who can make things happen without realising how they did it" he said with a very knowing look at the younger boy.

Harry felt his jaw drop. The image of Dudley's birthday cake exploding replayed in his mind. He had never really understood how it had happened.

"Are you saying that...that I'm a wizard" he said stunned.

Dumbledore smiled, "that's exactly what I'm saying".

"And you're a wizard too, that's what you just did...magic!"

"Indeed" replied Dumbledore nodding.

Harry fell silent, trying to digest what he had just been told. Although he hardly dared to believe it, being a wizard seemed to explain everything that had occurred in his life. The numerous unexplainable things he had somehow managed to make happen, the power he felt when he was angry or sad, and his uncle's great fear of magic.

A question suddenly occurred to Harry, "Were my parents a witch and a wizard too?" he asked.

Dumbledore's smile turned sad. "Yes Harry they were"

"Then how did they die in a car crash?" he asked puzzled.

"They were not killed in a car crash. Your aunt and uncle never told you the truth because they did not wish you to know of your abilities as a wizard. Like everything else in the world, there are bad wizards as well as good ones. A very dark wizard came to power many years ago, a wizard called Lord Voldemort. He murdered many innocent wizards including your mother and father, he even attempted to kill you Harry, but the spell backfired and you survived. That's why you are so special. Nobody in our world has survived such a curse" said Dumbledore, with something akin to pride in his voice.

Harry stared into the elder man's face feeling very lost. Everything seemed so unreal, he was a wizard, there was a magical world and a dark sorcerer had tried to murder him. He wondered for a fleeting instance whether this was all just a very cruel joke.

Dumbledore seemed to know what Harry was thinking, for he pulled his wand out again. He gave it a wave, causing flames to spring up in the fireplace. Another wave and the curtains were drawn. One final flick and Harry's torn T-shirt and trousers were replaced with a brand new thick green jumper and jeans. Harry stared in amazement.

"Do you believe me now Harry?" asked Dumbledore amused.

Harry nodded, grinning sheepishly.

"Good, then let us get something to eat. I don't know about you, but I'm famished" he said with a wink. They both got up and headed for the door. Behind them, the owl ruffled its feathers indignantly and glared at them, evidently still waiting to be un-silenced.

* * *

Though he had tried his hardest to restrain himself throughout their dinner, Harry couldn't help but ask questions. Questions about spells and jinxes, wizarding customs and traditions, sports and even how the ministry worked. Dumbledore, to his credit, answered them all. Patiently he explained the ways of wizards, his blue eyes sparkling at the awestruck look on Harry's face as he learned about his wonderful new world.

As the night wore on however, the young boy's eyes began to droop and eventually he fell asleep in his chair. Dumbledore, who had been busy explaining the various types of wizarding sweets, looked up and noticed, with a fond smile, that his young charge had fallen asleep. Gently, trying to disturb him as little as possible, Dumbledore carried Harry back to the bedroom and lay him down on the bed. The young wizard rolled on his side and Dumbledore caught a glimpse of the marks across his chest. He laid his hand on the boy's forehead in a gesture of comfort, but as he did so, a voice sprang unbidden to his mind.

_neither shall live while the other survives_

What was he doing? He couldn't start felling affectionate for the boy. This was the prophesised child and he had a destiny to fulfil. With a heavy heart, the elder man retracted his hand. He knew the dangers of getting too emotionally involved with Harry and he would not jeopardise the wizarding world's future by doing so.

Dumbledore got to his feet and walked slowly to the door. He paused by the entrance and looked back at the small figure sleeping peacefully on the bed.

"I'm sorry Harry"


	4. Hogwarts

A/N: A few people seemed to be under the impression that Dumbledore is going to abandon Harry, which he is not. In last chapter, he just reminded himself not to get too close to Harry for the sake of the prophesy...but who knows what will happen. ; )

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry 

Harry awoke the next morning to the sweet sound of birds chirping outside his window. Looking around, he noticed Dumbledore's bed was empty and there was a note perched atop the pillows.

_Dear Harry,_

_I have left to make certain arrangements on your behalf at our next place of residence. Help yourself to breakfast _(here Harry looked up and noticed a silver platter on the bedside table)_, I shall pick you up at half past ten._

_Albus Dumbledore_

Harry looked down at his watch and gave a yelp of panic, it was already ten past ten, and Harry was still in his pyjamas. Frantically, he got dressed and was just bolting down the remains of his bacon and eggs, when Dumbledore entered the room.

"Good morning Harry, I trust you slept well?" he asked, brushing the snow off his long overcoat.

"Very well thanks" Harry replied.

"Good because we have a long day ahead of us" said Dumbledore, pulling out a glowing boot from one of his pockets. He smiled at the perplexed look on Harry's face.

"This, Harry, is portkey. A magical type of transportation, all you have to do is hold on to it".

Harry stepped forward, and with great trepidation, placed his hand on the boot. Immediately, he felt the room lurch and was sucked headfirst into a spinning abyss. He landed with a hard thump and fell over. Regaining his bearings, Harry looked up, eyes widening at what he saw. In front of him, situated atop a hill, stood the largest and most beautiful castle Harry had ever seen. The vast turrets seemed to rise into the very heavens, and the castle itself was surrounded by a gigantic black forest.

"Welcome to Hogwarts Harry" said Dumbledore, helping Harry back to his feet. All Harry could manage was a silent "wow". They made their way up the long sweeping drive towards the school, Harry turning in all directions to catch a glimpse of everything. At the entrance, they were greeted by an overly-enthusiastic house-elf who bounced around so much that Harry's head began to hurt watching him.

"Ah Binker, would you mind taking Harry to his rooms and... yes it would also be helpful if you could show him around the castle" said Dumbledore turning to go down the corridor, "oh and Harry, if you need anything, just send word with Binker, he'll know where to find me" he added.

Harry watched him go feeling slightly put out, he would have very much liked for the elder man to take him around the castle and perhaps explain just what he was supposed to do here. But he barely had time to ponder on his thoughts when the small elf began tugging on his arm and leading him down another corridor.

Harry had never been in a more confusing place in his entire lifetime. Everything here seemed to be alive and moved of its own accord, including the stairs, and suits of armour which saluted as he passed. After a hectic journey, which included his first encounter with Peeves the poltergeist, Harry finally made it to his rooms. Stepping inside, Harry felt himself turn speechless for the second time that day. It was more like a mini apartment, complete with living area, bathroom and an enormous master bedroom. The furniture was soft blue and white linen, and was scattered in a jumbled sort of way, giving the whole place a very homely feel to it.

Harry sank down on one of the armchairs feeling slightly overwhelmed. Just yesterday, he had been living in a cupboard and carrying out chores for the Dursleys, and here he was now living in his very own quarters in a magical castle.

"Master Harry is very quiet. Can Binker do anything for you?" asked the elf noticing Harry's silence.

"I'm fine thanks Binker. I'd like to explore the castle though if it's ok with you" said Harry.

"Of course! Binker will do anything Master Harry wishes" said the elf taking Harry by the hand and dragging him out of the room.

* * *

They spent the rest of the day exploring the hundreds of classrooms in the castle. Binker showed Harry the Great Hall, dungeons and the staff room. They then visited the living areas of each school house, the astronomy and divination towers and finally outside where the greenhouses and black lake stood. Harry was particularly impressed by the quidditch stadium which looked incredibly exciting to play in. He was just turning back to go inside with Binker, when he noticed that they were right beside the outskirts of the forest. Its shadowy darkness seemed to extend forever, filled with vines and trees and magical beasts. Without even realising what he was doing, his feet began to carry him towards the nearest trees.

"Master Harry, you must not go there. Very dangerous sir" squeaked Binky nervously.

But Harry was not listening. Adrenaline and excitement were pumping through his veins at the thought of doing something bold and daring.

"Oi!"

The voice stopped Harry dead in his tracks, just before the nearest tree. Looking around he saw a huge well built man striding towards him.

"What are you doing here? All the students went home for Christmas yesterday." he said suspiciously.

"I'm not a student here. I'm..." but Harry broke off. What was he doing here?

"Well if yer not a student, then who are you?" he said fiercly.

"He is here at my wish Hagrid" said a calm voice behind Harry. Dumbledore appeared between them. "Harry, this is Rubeus Hagrid our gamekeeper" said Dumbledore making the introduction.

"How do you do Mr Hagrid?" said Harry politely holding out his hand. But Hagrid didn't return the gesture. He was staring in amazement, as though truly seeing Harry for the first time.

"Harry...Harry Potter. Well I never. Jus look at yer, all grown up eh. Welcome back to Hogwarts Harry...welcome home!" he said smiling broadly.

"Well Harry, I think it is time for us to head back up to the castle. Dinner will be served shortly and there are a few people I'd like you to meet" said Dumbledore leading the younger boy back up to the school.

* * *

Dinner was an enjoyable experience. Harry was introduced to all the professors that had remained behind for the holidays. Professor Flitwick a mild natured man who Harry liked immediately, Professor Sprout, a jolly, good-humoured witch, Professor Sinistra who was slightly more withdrawn but still polite and finally Professor McGonagall who although pleasant, gave the impression of great strictness.

After the meal, Harry got up and started to make his way back to his rooms, but Dumbledore stopped him.

"Harry I would like to have a word with you if you don't mind. In my office" he said quietly.

"Of course" Harry replied, wondering what Dumbledore wanted to talk to him about.

They walked together up staircases and along corridors until they finally reached a statue of a gargoyle to which Dumbledore gave the password "chocolate frog". Harry stepped inside the office, which was filled with peculiar objects and strange sounds. Looking around, Harry decided that this was the most interesting room he had seen so far at Hogwarts. There were shelves crammed with hundreds of books, cupboards with an assortment of different items and in the corner, on a golden perch stood a beautiful, swan-like creature with red and gold plumage.

Harry was so engrossed in his surroundings, that he didn't notice Dumbledore had already taken his seat at the desk and was waiting politely for the younger boy's attention. The headmaster caught his eye and blushing slightly, Harry sat down.

"So Harry, tell me, do you like Hogwarts so far?" he asked.

"Yeah, it's really...really cool" said Harry struggling to find the words to describe the place.

Dumbledore smiled, "Excellent, I believe then, that I'm safe in assuming that you will agree to take up residence here...you can, of course, return to the Dursley's if you wish" he said, eyes twinkling.

"I'd like to stay here if that's ok" said Harry.

"Well then that's sorted," said Dumbledore in a businesslike voice, "there is one other thing we must sort out Harry. As you know, students do not enrol at Hogwarts until the age of eleven, which means you will be spending four years in the magical world before you can start school. Therefore, I felt that it is in your best interests to begin some form of magical education, to prepare you and perhaps give you some advantage when you do begin school. It will be basic, covering different aspects of magic and I hope you will find it both useful and enjoyable."

"What will you be teaching me?" asked Harry curiously.

Dumbledore gave him an odd look. "I will not be teaching you Harry. I have arranged for you to be tutored by an old acquaintance of mine. He is very knowledgeable and I thought it would suit you best." he added watching Harry closely.

The younger boy nodded, feeling extremely stupid. How could he have assumed that Dumbledore would be teaching him? From what he had seen, Dumbledore seemed to be a prominent man in the wizarding society, far too busy to spend his time tutoring a seven year old boy.

"Well Harry, I believe that is all," said Dumbledore standing up, "I have asked your tutor to meet you tomorrow at 10:30 in the Great Hall. Have a good night".

"Goodnight Mr Dumbledore" said Harry, hurrying out of the office as quickly as he could.

Walking back to his rooms, Harry couldn't help the disappointment that he felt. Perhaps, it was his imagination, but Harry felt as though the headmaster had been acting slightly more withdrawn to Harry today, than he had been so far.

He climbed into his wonderfully soft bed and all thoughts eluded him except one. What was his tutor going to be like?

* * *

A/N: Sorry this chapter took so long to get posted but my life has taken a hectic turn recently. I don't have a beta reader, so all mistakes I make are intentional lol. If you're still reading this then make my day and review!


	5. The Apprentice

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry or his world unfortunately.

The Apprentice

They were waiting as Harry descended the marble steps outside the great hall. Both were clad in regal black and violet robes, and had an air of royalty about them. Lord and Lady Mortimer, Harry's new tutors regarded him silently, with great interest, as he made his way nervously towards them.

"Harry Potter, a pleasure to finally meet you" he said, extending an elegant hand. Harry shook, feeling the strong grip of the elder man.

"Let me introduce myself, my name is Lucien Mortimer, and this," he said gesturing to the rather beautiful witch beside him, "is my wife Lady Isabelle".

Harry nodded to her, not meeting her eyes. He suddenly felt very small and insignificant in the company of these two very stately looking people.

"Come" said Lucien suddenly, "we shall waste no more of your precious learning time standing idly". He put a hand on Harry's shoulder, steering him out of the great hall, and the castle itself, down the large drive until at last they came to a halt beside the tall iron gates.

"You have used a portkey before?" enquired Lady Isabelle, speaking for the first time as she produced a silver plate from her robes. Her voice was rich and melodic, and Harry could only nod silently.

They all took hold of the plate, Harry glanced up at the castle, but before he could do so properly, he felt a powerful jerk around his midriff and was whisked away.

I f he had looked up, he might have noticed the sad blue eyes behind half moon spectacles watch him go.

* * *

Dumbledore stood silently by the great oak doors as Harry disappeared. Looking out onto the grounds he felt strangely depressed.

"You could have just taught the boy yourself Albus, rather than stand there and feel sorry for yourself" said a crisp, disapproving voice behind him.

The headmaster smiled, recognising the voice of his Deputy. "It is better for him this way" he replied, still staring at the spot where Harry had vanished.

"I fail to see how," countered McGonagall, "You could teach Harry far more things than Lucien. Besides you two seemed to get along very well yesterday".

Dumbledore turned and looked at her very seriously.

"Harry is destined to do great things in our world Minerva, but it may be at great cost to himself. If I grow close to him, I fear I will prevent him from fulfilling his destiny by trying to protect him. My actions may well put our world in danger" he said firmly.

Minerva restrained herself from rolling her eyes and filled in the obvious point her employer seemed to be missing.

"If it is his destiny, as you seem to think Albus, then nothing you do will change it, not your protection or your affection. In the end, if Harry is destined to save our world...he will".

Dumbledore opened his mouth to reply and then closed it again, evidently realising that Minerva's logic made perfect sense.

The Deputy headmistress, seemingly satisfied, turned and left, leaving behind Albus Dumbledore with much to think about.

* * *

Harry let out a gasp of amazement as the portkey released him at their destination. They had landed at the bottom of a steep-sided valley between two mountains. Ahead of them, veiled in an unearthly mist, stood a large collection of old, ornate looking buildings.

"Welcome to our humble abode Harry" said Lucien quietly.

Harry wasn't sure about humble, the place was about a quarter of the size of Hogwarts and every last detail from the flagstones on the floor to the elaborate oak doors had been hand carved and built to perfection. Although he had barely set foot in the Mortimer's dwelling, Harry could already tell that this place was every bit as impressive and elaborate as the owners who lived in it.

Lucien led Harry through the grand interior, pausing every now and then to explain the history behind one of the many sculptures or paintings scattered in each room. Eventually, they stopped outside two large double doors. The inscription above read _eruditio, sapientia._

"This is the learning area where you will be spending most of your time with either myself or Isabelle. Although you are welcome to go outdoors and dine with us in the main hall, I must make it plain that you are not to wander too far from this part of the house, is that understood?"

Harry nodded, gulping slightly at the severity of Lucien's expression. Isabelle cleared her throat slightly, and Lucien, giving her a half glance, smiled once more.

"Now that the formalities are over let us begin" he said leading Harry towards a large desk in the centre of the room. He motioned for Harry to sit down while he took up a position in front of a small blackboard.

"As you do not yet have a wand, we will begin with theory lessons."

* * *

Five hours later Harry lay, in the glorious afternoon sunlight, underneath an apple tree in the Mortimer's beautiful fruit orchard. Winter was quickly fading away, and the young wizard was making them most of the premature spring weather. He had spent the best part of the morning learning magical theory with Lucien. They weren't really lessons at all, mused Harry, as he watched a bumblebee drone lazily in front of him. In fact, Harry had spent most of the time listening eagerly to Lucien's fascinating tales of wizarding legends and battles, conjuring in his mind's eye, images of dragons and the great white haired wizard Merlin.

Isabelle had then proceeded to cook them a mouth-watering lunch. Harry found himself slightly overwhelmed sitting in between the large bowls of soups, casseroles, salads, vegetables, sandwiches and blocks of cheese, not to mention the various chocolaty deserts that followed.

In the afternoon, Isabelle had taken Harry into the garden to help her pick herbs for potions. When their baskets had been filled, she let Harry explore the vast expanse of their orchard where he currently lay. Life had never been sweeter for the boy-who-lived, as he lay there exhausted, but wonderfully happy.

* * *

Dumbledore sat at his desk, staring at the woman revolving in his pensieve. This was not the first, nor would it be the last time he listened to Sybil Trelawney's fateful prophecy. Minerva's words reverberated in his mind, and he knew that, for all his reasoning about Harry's future, she was right. He had made up his mind and would teach the boy himself.

As though on cue, Minerva walked into his office.

"Albus, the Mortimers have just brought Harry back" she said, frowning when she noticed the image in his pensieve.

Dumbledore, catching her expression replied, "I've been doing some thinking about what you said earlier and I must say, once again it seems, you have proved an old man wrong. I do hope you forgive my poor judgement"

"Well, I don't about old, but you are certainly forgiven," she said smiling, "now come, they're waiting".

* * *

Dumbledore and Minerva met the trio in the entrance hall. Harry was positively bouncing with excitement.

"Mr Dumbledore! I had such a great time today."

Dumbledore glanced at his deputy, who silently urged him on.

"Yes...about that-"

"It was so fun! Mr Mortimer told me all about Merlin and -"

"Harry I- "

"They've invited me to a quidditch match tomorrow after my lesson, pleease can I go?"

He stared at the pleading boy in front of him and sighed. He didn't have the heart to ruin the boy's happiness.

"...Of course"

Harry gave a yelp of delight and pulled his tutors, who were both chuckling, into a bear hug.

Dumbledore couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy as he watched them.

"Now, now Harry, you mustn't say too much or Albus will think you're not learning anything with us." said Lucien, ruffling his hair fondly.

"We'd better be off" said Isabelle straightening up. The two of them made their way down the grounds, and Harry waved them goodbye.

As they disapparated, the headmaster felt the familiar feeling of depletion wash over him.

"Oh Albus," said Minerva closing her eyes, "I'm sorry".


	6. Diagon Alley

Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter world.

A/N: When writing this chapter, I noticed that Diagon Alley is actually an anagram for "All Die Agony"...how pleasant.

Diagon Alley 

Over the next few weeks, Dumbledore rarely saw Harry. The young wizard was spending more and more time with his tutors, and when he did arrive back at the school in the evenings, the Headmaster was usually busy with ministry requests or school paperwork.

It was for this reason that Dumbledore decided to take Harry to Diagon Alley on one of his rare weekends off. Apart from being able to spend some time with his young charge, the older wizard knew that Harry would soon be needing a wand in order to begin his practical lessons. He also felt that Harry was long overdue some new clothes (though he hadn't mentioned this to him yet).

On Saturday morning, Dumbledore made his way down to the Great Hall and found Harry sitting by one of the tables reading a book given to him by Lucien. The Headmaster couldn't help the immensely proud feeling that consumed him, as he watched the younger boy. In the last few weeks, Harry had proved both conscientious and quick to learn new material, with the result that he had progressed through his theory lessons at an insanely fast rate.

Harry was reading so intently, that he didn't even notice the Headmaster walk up behind him, until he spoke.

"So, Mr Potter, shall we go shopping? Or would you prefer to sit here and read all day?"

Harry jumped slightly and, catching Dumbledore's smile, grinned sheepishly and put the book away. The two of them made their way up to Albus' office, where the elder wizard grabbed a handful of floo powder and threw it into the fireplace. Taking Harry's hand, Dumbledore stepped into the flames shouting "Diagon Alley" and the two were spun dizzily in the grate until they arrived at the old cobbled pathways of the wizarding shops.

Harry gaped open mouthed at his surroundings as they made their way towards the main alley. Never in his life had he seen anything like this place, the streets were filled with hundreds of witches and wizards going about their weekly shopping and every shop window they passed, seemed to display something even more incredible and exciting than the last.

Their first stop was Flourish and Blotts, the wizarding bookshop. The place was filled from floor to ceiling with the largest collection of books Harry had ever seen. From books on curses and jinxes, to those on how to deal with garden gnomes, it seemed to Harry, as though there was a book in here for everything imaginable. So absorbed was he by his surroundings, that Harry didn't notice Dumbledore discretely slide a few coins over the counter and pay for a large, colourful book on legendary wizarding tales.

Equally as impressive as Flourish and Blotts, was Quality Quidditch Supplies. After his first encounter of quidditch with Lucien and Isabelle, Harry had fallen in love with the sport. He would avidly read the Prophet every morning to check the latest scores or news about his favourite team The Tornadoes and sometimes tuned into the wireless to listen to live matches.

The shop was crowded with people checking out the new season's stock. Harry keenly examined the new Tornadoes quidditch robes, before moving to join a large crowd of children around the latest model of the Nimbus series. Many were pleading with their parents to buy it for them and Harry felt distinctly awkward with the Headmaster standing beside him. He hoped Dumbledore wasn't feeling pressured to buy him anything with the other children around them, the last thing he wanted was to be a cause of unnecessary expense for the elder man. With this in mind, he pretended to lose interest in the shop and quickly made his way outside.

Dumbledore wasn't fooled. Harry's newfound passion for quidditch had not gone unnoticed by the Headmaster, and he had already made a mental note of the quidditch robes Harry had been interested in, as he followed his young charge outside. A part of him felt deeply saddened that Harry believed himself unworthy of presents, a trait undoubtedly stemmed from his childhood with the Dursleys. Harry's rumbling stomach however, pushed these thoughts from the Headmaster's mind, and they set about finding a place for lunch.

In the afternoon, they visited Madam Malkin's where Harry found himself being measured and pinned with copious amounts of fabric. Dumbledore bought him an expensive looking black fur cloak, along with a few emerald and black robes for general wear and a rather handsome set of red and black velvet dress robes. Harry, overwhelmed with gratitude towards the elder man, found that his throat had become obstructed when he tried to express his thanks, but Dumbledore seemed to understand, for he smiled as he paid for the items saying "You're quite welcome my boy".

Their final stop was Olivanders, Harry read, catching a glimpse of the sign, as he followed Dumbledore into a quaint little shop. The room inside was dusty and quiet, with boxes upon boxes of, what Harry assumed to be, wands stacked against the walls. The silence stretched on and seemed to engulf Harry, Dumbledore hummed quietly to himself as they waited. Harry wandered what was taking so long, and was just about to ask, when an old man appeared infront of them. He was thin and frail looking with large, grey eyes.

"Albus," he said shaking Dumbledore's hand, "what a pleasant surprise".

Olivander's gaze fell on Harry, and he looked enquiringly at Dumbledore.

"This Jeffrey," said Dumbledore making the introduction, "is Harry Potter. He is here for a wand"

Olivander frowned slightly at the Headmaster.

"A little young to be purchasing a wand don't you think Albus?"

"There has been a change in plan. Harry is to begin his magical... ah...education, slightly earlier than normal" Dumbledore replied.

"Very well," said Olivander, proceeding to take Harry's measurements, "but I can't guarantee he'll find a wand. Many wizards do not develop magical aptitude until they are slightly older than Harry is at present".

As the afternoon wore on, Harry was beginning to get the impression that Olivander had been right. They had tried out, what seemed to Harry, half of the wands in the shop and none had so far proven to be the right match for him.

"What about that one Jeffrey?" said Dumbledore pointing to a lone box in the far corner of the room. Olivander looked up.

"Holly and Phoenix feather" he said quietly. The two adults stared at each other for a moment, before Olivander picked up the wand and handed it to Harry.

Before he had even touched it, Harry somehow knew that this was the one for him, and sure enough when he gave it a sweeping wave, a burst of blinding white light emitted from its tip.

"Oh well done!" cried Olivander, while Dumbledore gave Harry's shoulder a gentle squeeze.

As Olivander wrapped the wand, Harry noticed both adults were wearing rather pensive looks. He didn't have time to ponder on this though as Dumbledore took out a leather pouch to pay for the wand. Harry felt himself go red again feeling more and more like a charity case. He wished he had some money of his own so he wouldn't be so much of a burden to the elder man.

These bitter thoughts consumed him as they walked back along a side alley. Dumbledore produced a glowing newspaper which Harry recognised as a portkey, and holding onto it, felt the familiar sensation once more of being sucked into a plughole. They appeared at the gates of the school where darkness was rapidly falling.

"Are you alright Harry?" said Dumbledore, noticing Harry's silence as they walked up the drive, "You seem rather quiet."

"It's just...," Harry paused, struggling to find the words, "You shouldn't have bought me all this" he said gesturing to their bags.

Dumbledore glanced at Harry, he had a feeling he knew where this was going, "And why ever not Harry?"

"Because you shouldn't have to waste your money and time on me, it's not your job" said Harry quietly.

Dumbledore put a hand on Harry's shoulder and made the younger boy turn to face him.

"Listen to me Harry," he said quietly, "I didn't do this because it's my job. I did it because I wanted to. Because I enjoy spending time with you."

But Harry wasn't convinced, and he turned away from Dumbledore, voicing the thoughts that had been plaguing him.

"I just don't want to...to be a burden" he said in barely above a whisper.

Harry waited, but Dumbledore didn't reply. When he turned to face the Headmaster, he saw that the elder man was staring at him sadly.

"What?" he said rather more defensively than he intended.

Dumbledore moved forward and wrapped his arms around Harry pulling him close. The gesture shocked Harry, and he froze, unsure of what to do with himself. Dumbledore rubbed a soothing hand on his back and Harry began to relax into the embrace.

"You could never be a burden to me Harry" said Dumbledore gently. Harry clung to the Headmaster, wanting desperately to believe his words and without warning, he felt a lump rise unbidden in his throat, squeezing his eyes shut as tears began to trickle down his face. Dumbledore's arms tightened around him.

"Hush now" he said gently, stroking Harry hair. Harry's eyelids began to droop and soon he was fast asleep in the Headmaster's arms.

Dumbledore smiled when he heard the soft snores from his young charge and shifting Harry against his chest, lifted him up and carried him back to the castle.

From a tree above, a tabby cat watched the two of them with what looked like a faint smile.

* * *

What do you think? Too fluffy? Please Review!


	7. Conversations Overheard

Deathly Hallows!...What can I say, overall a great book and ending to the series. Although I have to say I was slightly disappointed that Dumbledore's fatherly love for Harry wasn't made more obvious by J K. Oh well, I guess that's just my obsession with the whole father/son thing between them... anyway back to the story!

* * *

The vase wavered, and then dropped to the floor with a resounding crash. 

"Focus Harry! You must focus!" came Lucien's exasperated voice, "once more…..Wingardium Leviosa".

Harry sighed and raised his wand for what seemed like the hundredth time that afternoon. The floor around them was covered in shards of glass and china, and Harry was immensely thankful that Isabelle had chosen to remain in the kitchen while they practiced.

"Wingardium Leviosa" he said waving his wand vaguely at a marble statue in the corner of the room. It hovered in the air for a moment, before dropping with a sickening thud, onto Lucien's foot.

The elder man howled in pain, and his patience seemed to have finally snapped.

"You are not concentrating enough! This is not a game we are playing, this is serious training, and if you do not start taking it seriously, I will not waste my time teaching you!" he screamed, hobbling from the room and slamming the door behind him.

Harry dropped into a nearby chair, scowling at the door. Over the last two months, Lucien's temperament had radically disintegrated from the calm and proud figure Harry had first met, to a point where he was almost tyrannical at times. Harry did not know what had caused such a change, but Lucien's haggard appearance of late, suggested that he was under a lot of strain.

Harry tried the spell again, but after a few failed attempts, he gave up and made his way towards the kitchen in the hope that Isabelle would sympathize with his plight and make him something to eat.

As he drew closer to the kitchen however, he could hear strained voices from within, and stopped to listen.

"- cannot go losing your temper like this Lucien, if the boy tells anyone at Hogwarts-"

"Then what? It doesn't matter does it? He is no where near as competent as we thought…… and after all the effort of getting Dumbledore to give him to us in the first place!"

"He _is_ competent Lucien, we have both seen it. All we need to do is match his theoretical aptitude with practical application, if we can manage that, we will be halfway toward our goal!"

"…..Perhaps….but I just didn't think it would take so long."

"You knew from the beginning that this would require time and patience. It must be done subtly… carefully so as not to arouse suspicion, but if all goes as planned then we will be successful-"

"Master Harry…..not eavesdropping are we?"

Harry spun around drawing his wand, but lost his balance and fell with a heavy thud, onto the floor. To his left, the kitchen door flew open and Isabelle and Lucien came hurrying out having heard the noise.

The owner of the voice, came in the form of a small hunched man with a ghostly pale complexion. His bloodshot eyes were partially obscured by the filthy strands of long black hair covering his face, but Harry could still make out the leer from beneath them.

"Rabastian, what are you doing?" said Isabelle, addressing the servant.

"My lady," he said bowing to her, "I saw young master Harry here, eavesdropping on your conversation and thought you should know."

Harry felt his face flush and threw Rabastian the dirtiest look he could manage. From the moment they had first met, Harry had sensed the man's depraved nature and loathed him on instinct.

"I was just coming to get some lunch, I didn't mean to hear anything" he mumbled.

Looking up, he saw the Mortimers share a glance.

"Were you talking about me" Harry said before he could stop himself.

There was an awkward silence, then Isabelle smiled and said, "Harry don't be silly. Of course we weren't talking about you. You're our star boy aren't you?"

Harry reluctantly smiled back, not entirely convinced of her honesty.

* * *

The rain was pelting down hard when the portkey released Harry in front of the castle. By the time he had dashed up the drive and flung himself through the great oak doors, he was soaked from head to toe and water was dripping everywhere. 

"Blimey Harry, yeh'd better get goin before Filch catches you" said Hagrid, sidestepping the large puddle forming in the entrance hall.

Harry didn't need telling twice. He quickly made his way up the staircase towards the Headmaster's office. On reaching it however he realised, with a twinge of disappointment, that it was empty.

Fudge had come calling again. Harry slumped into the vacant chair opposite the desk and sighed.

Lately it seemed as though Dumbledore was expected to run both Hogwarts and the ministry single handedly and Harry couldn't help feeling a certain amount of resentment towards the minister for taking his guardian away from him.

A loud clap of thunder jolted Harry from his thoughts. Looking out of the window he could see a storm approaching the castle. The streaks of lightning caused a well of anxiety to build up inside him. He was shivering, he realised, not only from the dampness of his clothes but from fear as well.

Harry had never been good with storms and the Dursleys, who knew full well of this phobia, had often used it as a means of cruel amusement.

During one particular visit from Aunt Marge, Ripper the dog had chased Harry up a tree in the garden where he was forced to take refuge as a terrible storm passed overhead. Despite lightning bolts striking the ground close to the terrified child, the Dursleys had watched gleefully from inside the house, eager to see which fear Harry would succumb to first, the dog or the storm. He was saved only when a passing neighbor heard his cries and alerted the family.

Another clap of thunder and Harry began to panic, his heart thumping wildly. He gripped the side of the chair as his head began to spin.

A bolt of lightning struck the wall outside making the entire office shake.

"Albus" he cried out weakly, desperate for the elder man to hear him.

Harry could hear his own whimpers echoing loudly in his head as he fought to stay conscious. Everything was going black. He felt something close in on him and tried to lash out, but his arms were too heavy.

With one last shuddering gasp, he felt his grip on reality slide away and fell into the dark abyss.

* * *

The first thing Harry noticed, was that he was warm. Opening his eyes blearily, he saw that the heat was in fact coming from a blazing fire in the fireplace. 

His head was resting against something soft, and looking up he realised that it was Dumbledore's beard. The elder man was reading a newspaper, oblivious to the awakening of his young charge.

Harry tried to sit up, but he was wrapped tightly in a fluffy towel. His fruitless struggle eventually caught the headmaster's attention.

"Harry," he said, lifting the younger boy upright, "how are you feeling child?"

Harry squirmed embarrassedly on the sofa, "I'm fine" he mumbled.

Dumbledore placed a finger beneath Harry's chin making the boy look into his eyes.

"You gave me quite a fright back there, what happened?"

Harry glanced out of the window again. The rain had subsided completely.

"I don't like thunderstorms….I guess I just panicked" he said feeling ashamed at his own lack of self control.

Dumbledore wrapped an arm around him, sensing the younger boy's thoughts.

"Everybody gets afraid Harry, there is nothing to be ashamed of" he said gently.

"Not everybody………….not you" said Harry, barely above a whisper.

Dumbledore chuckled lightly, "My dear boy if you believe that, you are gravely mistaken…..adults fear things just as much as children do, and I am certainly no exception."

"Really?"

"Oh yes" replied Dumbledore, eyes twinkling.

Harry settled back into the elder man's arms feeling slightly happier.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here when you got back" said Dumbledore quietly, and Harry thought he could hear a trace of guilt in the headmaster's voice.

"I understand," he said earnestly, "its OK." They both looked at each other, and then smiled.

"Now," said Dumbledore attempting to neaten Harry's messy locks, "I hope you don't mind us having a few guests for the next couple of days?"

"Of course not, why?" said Harry curiously.

"Well, I just received a letter from my great niece Agatha," he said, "and it looks as though she's coming to pay us a visit."

* * *

A/N: Well I've finally managed to post this chapter after a good 3 months at least! This fic won't be abandoned, and I'll try and update as soon as I can. 


	8. Lawrence Mortimer

A/N: I did say I wouldn't abandon it...it just took me a couple of years to update...*hides in shame*

* * *

The collar of Harry's robe rubbed uncomfortably, as they waited by the stone steps for Agatha to arrive. Being Hogsmead weekend, the castle was devoid of students, barring those who were not old enough, and as a result it had a strangely silent feel to it.

Dumbledore, who had not seen his great niece for nearly ten years, looked up eagerly at the sound of an approaching carriage.

It was an elaborately decorated vehicle, painted in colours of black and gold, and as it came to a halt in front of them, a young man jumped down from the side and opened the door.

"Agatha!" said Dumbledore, moving forward to embrace the woman descending the steps.

She was tall, with long black hair and grey hawk-like eyes, and as Dumbledore hugged her, she smiled displaying a set of perfectly white teeth.

"Ah of course, I haven't introduced you," said Dumbledore turning to Harry, "Agatha this is Harry Potter, Harry my great niece Agatha."

"Pleased to meet you" said Harry extending a hand. He thought he saw something of a frown momentarily cross her features at this gesture, but next moment it was gone as a young boy stepped out of the carriage beside her.

"May I introduce my son, Caleb" said Agatha, ushering him forward.

Once again Dumbledore hugged the boy, and once again Harry noticed a slight coldness in the way the second guest greeted him.

Thoroughly confused, he looked questioningly towards Dumbledore, but the elder man had already turned away to lead them inside.

As they walked along the corridor, Harry glanced at Caleb. The boy looked vaguely familiar to Harry, but he couldn't quite place where he had seen him.

"Do I know you from somewhere?" he asked.

Caleb raised an eyebrow at him, "I've been told I look like my grandfather" was all he said, as they turned into the great hall.

Frowning at this bizarre response, Harry followed him to a table laid out for them in the middle of the hall.

He pulled out the chair beside Dumbledore, but before he could even move, Agatha came and promptly sat in his place.

"Why don't you go and sit by Caleb?" she said with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Do help yourself Agatha" said Dumbledore, as Harry sat down.

The woman turned her nose up at the large pot of stew and loaf of bread in the middle of the table.

"I was under the impression that you had house elves in this castle uncle?"

"Yes, that is true, why?"

"Well, it's just such a shame that none of them seem to have any real culinary skills-"

Harry choked on his piece of bread.

"-our elves back home prepare at least 5 different dishes per meal" she said indicating the lone pot on the table.

Dumbledore looked slightly put out, "I can have them send up something more to your taste if you wish" he said.

Agatha pulled a face as she tried a spoonful of the stew.

"On second thought, perhaps it is best if I take a light lunch today."

Harry stared at her disbelievingly. How could anyone be so rude? And why did Dumbledore seem to take no notice of it?

"Well many of our elves have been rested recently, to prevent them from becoming exhausted during the year you understand," he said patiently, "perhaps they were not up to standard today."

"Elves given rest? What is this nonsense uncle? The whole point of elves is to serve witches and wizards, to work so that we may rest and relax. Mind you, I'm thinking of giving my lot clothes and sending them on their way. Sappy creatures, far too pathetic for my liking."

"There's nothing wrong with elves" Harry said fiercely. He was beginning to get irritated by her comments, particularly having struck up a close friendship with Binker.

"Now Harry," said Dumbledore gently, "that's no way to speak to guests."

Harry stared at the elder man, frowning. There was definitely something wrong here.

"No, let the boy speak Uncle," she said smirking, "I'm sure a seven year-old understands the wizarding world more than I do."

Glaring at her, Harry dropped his eyes to his plate without replying. _Why_ wasn't Dumbledore saying anything?

Thankfully Hagrid chose that moment to enter the hall.

"Afternoon professor! Afternoon Harry!"

"Ah good afternoon Hagrid, what can we do for you?" replied the Headmaster.

"Well I'm jus' moving the hippogriff herd, and I thought young

Harry here might want ter help me."

"Yeah, I'll come!" said Harry at once, eager to get away from his current company.

"Why don't you take Caleb along with you," Agatha said from behind them, "I'm sure he'd enjoy spending time with someone his own age."

The younger boy didn't look too enthused about this prospect, but after a quick glance from his mother, he slid down from his seat and followed them both out of the hall.

"So Caleb," said Hagrid, clapping his reluctant helper on the back, "firs' time at Hogwarts from what Professor Dumbledore tells me? How do yeh like it?"

The young boy untangled himself from the gamekeeper's giant arm and looked around distastefully.

"It's alright I guess…" he replied none to enthusiastically.

Harry looked at him incredulously, _alright?_ Hogwarts was surely the most incredible sight any young witch or wizard could ever experience. Hagrid however, merely chuckled good-naturedly at the reply.

The surface of the lake rippled suspiciously as they passed by, and Harry craned his neck trying to catch a glimpse of the giant squid. He was rewarded after a few moments, when a long tentacle rose up and snatched at a passing frog, before disappearing back into the murky depths of the water.

"All right boys," said Hagrid coming to a halt in front of them, "here they are."

Harry and Caleb peered around Hagrid's sizable frame, and caught sight of the dozen or so creatures grazing amongst the shrubbery near the gamekeeper's hut. Each hippogriff had been tied to thick wooden posts embedded into the ground, for which Harry was immensely thankful. Beautiful they might be, but Harry didn't fancy his chances against the long talons, and razor sharp beaks.

"This here is Silverwing" said Hagrid walking towards the hippogriff closest to them. They watched as he bowed low before her, and on receiving one in reply, moved forward to pat her fondly.

"She's a real beauty," he said, lifting a wing to show them her glistening silver feathers, "folk down at the Hog's head have been tryin' ter get me to sell her for ages, but I keep tellin em' she's not for sale. I raised her from an egg, and I plan on keepin' her. She's my favourite of the bunch too."

Fang, who had trotted out to greet the group, let out a displeased bark at seeing his master giving so much attention to the hippogriff.

"Now listen up you two," said Hagrid, turning to face them, "I'm going inside ter get some meat, and then I'll show you how we bait em' into their new homes. In the meantime, no messin' around, and I don't want you getting any closer to the hippogriffs than you are at the moment, understood?"

He waited for both boys to nod and, after instructing Fang to stay, strode off towards his cabin.

As soon as the half-giant was out of sight however, Caleb sidestepped Fang and moved towards the hippogriff herd.

"Hagrid told us to stay here" Harry called out, but the other boy wasn't listening. He had reached the wooden post where Silverwing was tied, and had taken hold of the knotted rope.

With one eye trained on the beast, Caleb untied the rope from the post. The hippogriff, who had so far been oblivious to his presence, looked up suddenly.

"What are you doing?" whispered Harry furiously.

Without replying, Caleb bowed, and then pulled on the rope. Silverwing lowered her head, and dug her heels into the ground, refusing to budge. As they both pulled in opposite directions, Harry saw the rope sliding over the hippogriff's neck.

"Stop it," said Harry moving forward, "it's coming loose!"

"That," said Caleb with a smirk, "is the point."

With one final tug, the rope slid over the hippogriff's head, and came off completely. For a moment Silverwing remained frozen where she was. Then suddenly, realising her newfound freedom, she took off galloping across the lawn and with a powerful sweep of her wings, soared into the air.

Harry stared dumfounded at her rapidly disappearing silhouette in the sky, before rounding on Caleb.

"What did you do that for!" he said angrily.

"Me?" said Caleb feigning a look of incredulity, "I didn't do anything. It was you."

He threw the rope he was holding towards Harry who caught it instinctively, just as Hagrid came back out of his cabin.

"Mr Hagrid!" said Caleb running towards him and pointing to the hippogriffs, "it's Silverwing, she's escaped!"

"Wha-' said Hagrid looking over to the where the creatures were grazing. Catching sight of Silverwing's empty post, the gamekeeper let out a great cry of despair.

"Silverwing," he cried, looking around desperately, "where'd she go?"

"What's going on here?" came a crisp voice from behind them.

Harry looked around and saw that Agatha and Dumbledore had finished their lunch, and had come outside to find them. Caleb moved to stand by his mother, and Harry thought he saw the briefest of looks pass between them, but next second it was gone as Hagrid sank, blubbering, to the ground.

"Silverwing, my poor beauty. Gone forever."

Dumbledore stepped forward, pulling out a purple handkerchief, and gave it to the half-giant.

"There, there, Hagrid" he said, patting him on the shoulder.

Agatha looked down at her son.

"What happened darling?"

The cunning expression Harry had seen earlier had vanished, and Caleb now put on a great show of looking frightened and confused as he answered his mother.

"I-I don't really know," he said in a shaky voice, "Harry thought it would be a good idea to try and fly on that thing, but when he untied the rope, it escaped."

"No I didn't" said Harry furiously. He felt everyone's gaze turn towards him.

"Why do you have that piece of rope in your hands Harry?" said Agatha suddenly.

"It was him," said Harry pointing a finger at Caleb, "he untied Silverwing and then threw the rope to me."

"I see…" said Agatha, clearly disbelieving of him.

He turned towards Dumbledore, but the headmaster seemed reluctant to get involved with the conversation.

"Harry...are you sure?" asked the old wizard softly.

Harry gaped at the elder man in disbelief. How could there even be a doubt in the headmaster's voice? Didn't he trust him?

Dumbledore was staring at the floor, whilst the gleam of triumph in Agatha's eyes gave away her otherwise impassive face. A horrible emptiness stole across Harry in the silence between them, and before anyone could speak, he turned and ran back towards the castle, trying to put as much space between himself and the headmaster as possible.

Only when he reached a set of deserted classrooms on the third floor did he stop. Panting heavily, he leaned back against the wall and almost jumped out of his skin when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Looking around, he saw the owner of the hand was in fact Minerva McGonagall, the transfiguration professor.

"What are you doing here Harry?" she said surprised.

Harry remained silent, not wanting to talk about Dumbledore or about what had just happened. McGonagall raised an eyebrow when he failed to answer, but didn't press the matter further.

"Do feel free to come in," she said turning back towards the classroom. Harry followed her inside curiously. Since the students had returned from their holidays, he had tended to remain either in Dumbledore's quarters or his own when he returned from his tutoring. Despite the headmaster explaining who Harry was and his living arrangements in the castle, many of the students often stared at him as he passed, and being the subject of such scrutiny was something he greatly disliked.

"Ginger newt?" she offered, holding the tin in front of him.

Harry took one gratefully, and pulled up a chair from one of the desks near the front of the classroom.

"So," she said, indulging him with a rare smile,"Albus tells me you've been doing very well with your tuition. Are you enjoying it?"

Harry shrugged, swallowing a mouthful of biscuit.

"Yeah, I guess so…" he said half-heartedly.

Minerva waited patiently, sensing the boy had something more to say.

"It's just Mr Mortimer gets angry with me sometimes" he continued, "when I do things wrong, and I don't know why."

The deputy headmistress straightened slightly on hearing this, and made a mental note to speak to Dumbledore about Lucien's behaviour.

"They're really nice most of the time though" added Harry, seeing the older woman's concern.

The transfiguration professor gazed at Harry for a long moment, as though trying to decide whether to tell him something.

"Harry, both Lucien and Isabelle have only recently recovered from a very difficult period in their lives. They suffered the loss of their son Lawrence, who was brought before the Wizengamot, and convicted of death eater activities during You-Know-Who's reign of terror. He was sentenced to the Dementor's kiss. It broke Albus to have to make that decision as Chief Warlock, particularly given how close he was to the Mortimers, but the evidence against their son was irrefutable."

McGonagall paused here for a moment to gaze out of the window. She looked sad, Harry noticed, and it was something he was wholly unaccustomed to. During the few times he had seen her around the castle, she had always maintained her strict and professional persona. But he was beginning to see, like many of the professors who inhabited the castle, that she was a very different person outside of her classroom.

"I'm telling you this" she said, turning back to him, "because I think that having you around may be very difficult for them sometimes, a reminder of the son they lost, and maybe that is the reason Lucien loses himself from time to time. Then again perhaps it is something else entirely, I do not know."

Harry nodded, and realising he probably ought to be getting back to his quarters, wiped the last of the crumbs from his jeans and made towards the door.

"There is one more thing Harry," McGonagall said hesitantly as Harry reached the door, "you might find that during her stay, Albus will overindulge his niece Agatha."

"Why?" said Harry, thrown by the change in topic.

"Guilt," she said simply, "you see Lawrence Mortimer was Agatha's husband."


End file.
